There's Only One Clown Prince of Crime
by wilfre63
Summary: Welcome to the ultimate showdown! Jerome and Jeremiah go head to head in an event to decide the Clown Prince of Crime that shall rule over Gotham. Rated T for mild language.


**There's Only One Clown Prince of Crime**

Chapter 1

Gotham city had always been a place for crime to grow. It's tall buildings provided narrow alleyways for the scum of the city to lurk, dealing drugs and weapons. This city had seen villains rise and fall, creating wars that nearly destroyed it brick by brick. But at the heart of it all there was the Valeska brothers, Jerome and Jeremiah.

And now, with the fate of Gotham at stake, the twins must fight for the crown. Behold: the ultimate death battle...

Jerome waltzed through the crowded streets, screams from within the herds of people bounced from wall to wall. He paused to reconsider, before laughing out loud.

"Jeremiah! Old buddy, old pal..." he called out, staring up into the window of the grey building where a silhouette could be seen. "Come on, you shouldn't be afraid of me! I ain't gonna hurt ya..." Jerome sniggered, before muttering under his breath. "Well, on the other hand..."

The shadow disappeared, causing Jerome to sigh. "Looks like I'm gonna have to come in there after the goody-two-shoes little brat..."

With long strides, he made his way to the building entrance, kicking the doors open with the sole of his white Doc Martin's. A group of workers scattered through doors into other rooms, letting out cries of terror.

"Ready or not," Jerome collected a knife from his pocket. "Here I come!"

Kicking the marble floor, Jerome burst into a run, clattering up a flight of stairs. He ran a hand along the wall, knocking picture frames onto the floor with a grin. As he jumped up onto the second floor, Jerome slowed to a walk, creeping from door to door.

"Now... where is that girly-"

An arm was suddenly hooked over his shoulders, a blade pressed to his throat. Jeremiah's pale skin shone in the reflection of a window, his dark green hair for once in quite a state. He was smiling.

Jerome bit his lip to contain the laughter. "There you are," he pulled forward then sideways, throwing his brother round to the front of him.

They stared for a moment, glaring with green eyes filled with fury. A grin twitched at the corners of Jerome's lips as Jeremiah swung a knife toward him.

"Yikes," he snapped, running a hand through his orange hair. "Little close, wasn't it?"

"Hm," Jeremiah frowned, suddenly back to his usual emotionless self. "I fear I have no choice but to accept your game into my daily routine." he shrugged. "No matter, I shall soon deal with you."

There was a sudden blur. A knife was hurled through the air, a spatter of blood staining the cream carpet. Jerome had a faint look of surprise plastered onto his face as he felt the red liquid that oozed from the cut on his cheek.

"Just another one for the collection."

Jeremiah spun around, taking a flight of stairs to the left that lead up to the third floor. Several assistants paused before racing away at the sight of two sadistic twins chasing each other through the building. Jerome skidded to a halt, glancing around. He stepped forward, yet no sooner than he did the butt of a gun sounded a 'clunk' against the back of his head.

With a thud he landed against the floor. Gathering his thought, he opened his eyes just to be dragged away by his arm. Jeremiah pulled his to his feet, hitting him again with the gun.

"I don't want to kill you, Jerome." he said.

Jerome smiled innocently at his brother, gripping his purple jacket. He laughed slowly, each 'ha, ha, ha' sounded out clearly. Jeremiah's nose wrinkled. He didn't like it, and Jerome knew this very well. After all, this had always happened when they were children.

"Just like the good ol' days, eh?"

There was a click. A second gun was now aimed at Jerome, only this time its owner was a police officer.

"Drop your weapons." he commanded. "I repeate, drop your weapons."

Jerome loosened his grip and shrugged. "Seriously...?" he let out a string of laughter.

The officer narrowed his eyes before speaking into his radio. "This is Cooper requesting back up at 145 Jacqueline Road, we have a situation."

Taking the opportunity, Jeremiah decided to slip away. If he was to kill Jerome, he had to do it right.

"Eh?" Jerome glanced around. "Ohh, no... you can't get away that easily."

"Hey...!" Cooper yelled after the running ginger and began to follow as four more officers came into view. "Get back here!"

The noise level suddenly increased as he hit the fourth and final floor. The shouts from downstairs were louder now, the clatter of footsteps against marble stairs growing closer.

The loudspeaker crackled into life, catching his attention. " _Jerome Valeska._ " it was Jeremiah. He must be somewhere nearby... " _I heard you wanted to kill me... well, here I am. Now is your chance to prove to Gotham who's the boss, the person who you claimed to be for so long._ "

Jerome scowled, jumping forward at the sight of his brother runny from one side of the corridor to the next, doors swinging open wildly.

"Don't play funny with me, 'cause you know I'm much better at it..." he was on his trail, following the chain of open doors and soft breezes up to the attic of the building, where a hole in the roof was visible. Jeremiah waved his gun before throwing himself up a ladder, his blade balanced between his teeth.

"You're too slow, Jerome..." he cooed. "If you can't keep up with me you can't keep up with anyone!"

"Bah." Jerome spat, baring his teeth as he reached the top of the ladder. Gotham was suddenly spread out before him, buildings towering from left to right. He threw his arms in the air in surprise, looking down at the misty street below. "Woah... ah, that was a close one, eh?"

Jerome was perched on the very edge of the building, the roof jutting out behind him. With a quick muttered giggle, he pattered down the tiles, making sure he didn't lose his footing or, worse yet, step on a loose one.

A bullet whistled passed his ear, his eyes darting to Jeremiah ahead of him. He was aiming a gleaming pistol with a grin. Two more bullets were fired in Jerome's direction, the second one imbedding itself into his left shoulder. The full force threw him off balance, his body falling over the side. Jerome's right hand gripped the ledge.

He let out a growl in pain. " _Agh_...! You..." Jerome lifted himself up as blood began to seep through his cream overcoat. "...little... bast-"

There was a third explosion as he got back onto the roof. Jerome let out a cry and was thrown onto his back. Another bead of metal hit his shoulder in roughly the same place.

Jeremiah slotted his weapon away, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. "Come on, Jerome! You can do better than that." he was stood at the end of a platform that was held up by a spiderweb of metal pipes.

His brother got to his feet yet again, hunched over and clutching onto his wounds. With a scowl laced onto his scarred face, Jerome edged forward. As his left foot touched a wooden plank belonging to the platform, Jeremiah's eyes flicked.

"That's it..." he breathed.

"You know," Jerome snapped. "I always knew you'd be the craziest of them all. But of course, no one else saw that. I tried to warn them but did they ever listen? No. They just treated me like I was a nut case."

"Maybe it's because you are." Jeremiah mocked. "I remember when you went crazy."

He laughed, placing his right foot closer to a broken plank. "Oh, no... you couldn't have. Want to know why?" there was no answer as he crept closer amd closer to the split plank. "Because I didn't go crazy, I am crazy... I go normal from time to time."

"...Just a little closer..."

Jerome raised an eyebrow as he rested his weight onto the plank. Jeremiah felt it buckle under the pressure.

"See ya."

"What?" Jerome suddenly fell through the floor. He didn't even have time to scream, air whipped past his face and snatched the breath from his lungs.

Jeremiah let out a weak laugh, but was practicing his prayers all too soon as his brothers hand gripped hold of the next plank along, the one he was standing on. The wood splintered, snapping clean in two. Jeremiah reached out for a pipe before he fell to his death, and feeling the cold metal his palm closed around it. Jerome was dangling from his leg with one arm, the other hanging limp from the bullet holes.

" _No..._ " Jeremiah muttered under his breath as he began to slip.

"So," Jerome chided. "I guess this it then. It's beem nice knowing ya..."

Another platform to the side caught his eye. "It's not quite the end yet..."

And with that he let go. Within the space of a millisecond, Jeremiah gripped the second platform.

"Nice thinking," Jerome grabbed the pipework next to him and began to edge along it with one arm so that he could pull himself up. With a salute, he bounded off, his footsteps causing saw dust to drift from the planks. A flock of pigeons took off in a hurry.

Jeremiah sighed, lifting his body onto the platform so he could persue his twin. He could hear the noises from inside the building as he ran past.

After turning a corner, Jerome was trapped. It was a dead end. He put his hands in the air and laughed. "Ah-hoo-hoo-hoo... you got me, Miah, you got me." he dug out a pistol from the inside of his blood-stained coat and aimed it shakily. "Do it, you know you want to..."

Jeremiah hesitated for a moment, hearing footsteps approaching. He narrowed his eyes and steadied his gun.

"C'mon, shoot me. Shoot, for God's sake! Shoot!"

He fired. The bullet sliced the atmosphere, hitting Jerome in the centre of his chest. The world ran quiet as his eyes roled back into his head, his body collapsing over the side of the platform.

Jerome fell and, as far as Jeremiah could tell, with a smile. He didn't even here the impact of his twin hitting the ground.

Jeremiah stared, dropping his gun as officers began to swarm behind him. He held his hands behind his head.


End file.
